


Morning

by melannen



Series: Lots of Planets Have A South Downs [5]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Saga (Comics)
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 19:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melannen/pseuds/melannen





	Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opalmatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/gifts).



I fell asleep not long after my story, with half a cookie still clutched in one fist. Zirah said that instead of waking me up we could put me in his bed, which turned out to be in a mostly-plaid bedroom that very obviously hadn’t been used in months.

When she saw that, Granny asked him again if he was sure he didn’t mind giving up his bedroom for a night, just to see if he would squirm. He shrugged, completely unembarrassed, and said “I only sleep recreationally.”

The grown-ups and Izabel ended up sitting around and talking all night. Here are things they learned about Zirah and Crowley, that they used to talk over to try to figure out who they were: Zirah collected antique snuff boxes and he had read everything ever published by Heist and had strong opinions about all of it. And he _did_ squirm, and turn almost as pink as Izabel, and issue furious denials, when told the opposite of war was fucking. Crowley just leered at him. Crowley had been to see some band perform live that had broken up before Izabel was _born_ , but he had not taken Zirah along because, he said, Zirah had terrible taste in music and could not dance. He was also really into gardening and claimed the secret to getting good results was to be mean to the plants, but once he left the room for a few minutes to get another bottle of wine from the basement Zirah said that actually he was far too soft-hearted and Zirah always had to be the one to prune the roses.

An hour or so before dawn, my parents contacted Granny and asked her if we were ready to take off at short notice.

Granny’d had a lot of Atlantean wine by then. “Actually, we’re, ah, visiting the neighbors,” she said.

My parents whispered back and forth for a second and said, “Do you trust them?”

“Zirah owns a signed first printing of _A Night Time Smoke_ ,” she replied.

“Okay, then, stay there,” my dad said. “Things are getting nuts here, there are Landfallian soldiers everywhere. Apparently the governor signed an order yesterday declaring that all citizens of Wreath descent are to be moved to interment camps as possible enemy combatants and have all their property confiscated.”

“You mean ‘internment’ camps,” Izabel said.

“No I don’t,” Dad answered grimly. “And there’s a Freelancer called ‘The War' or something who’s been snooping around, _and_ we just heard that someone reported the rocketship’s landing and there are soldiers watching it, too.”

“You’re welcome to join us here until things settle down,” Zirah said. “I promise nobody will come looking here.”

Granny frowned at the two of them, obviously a couple mixed between horns and wings (even if they still couldn’t decide which was which,) and not very inconspicuous about it.

“You should be able to head back to the ship before long anyway,” Crowley said. “The soldiers are going to have more important things to worry soon.”

My parents showed up at the cottage just as I was having my breakfast (more cookies). Granny met them with mugs of coffee, and they both gulped it down gratefully.

Mom put hers down as soon as it was empty and then stared at Crowley. “You were right,” she said. “How did you know?”

“How did he know what?” Granny asked.

“They found the Governor hanged this morning. With a suicide note where he confessed he’d had a secret Wreath lover for years and couldn’t take the guilt. And then they discovered that all of weapons in the armories and barracks had turned into flowers, even though they had unbeatable shields around them,” Marko told them. “So now the Landfall soldiers are facing a lot of very scared and angry magic-users with no guns and no leader.”

“And they were the flowers of a plant that produces a restricted recreational drug, no less.”

“Huh,” said Crowley, and hoisted me onto his shoulders. “Wonder how that happened. Then you definitely shouldn’t have trouble getting back to your ship while they’re distracted. C’mon, we’ll walk you there.”

“Don’t let the blond one steal any books!” Granny warned, but when we got there she gave Zirah a copy of the unfinished proof of _The Opposite of War_ and Crowley a cutting from the rocketship. And then they gave us a basket full of not just the fruit-filled cookies, but all kinds of sweets and fruit- I don’t know how they got it all the way to the ship without us noticing, but somehow they did.

We never saw them again after that. I hope they’re doing okay. The last we heard, Achene had declared itself officially neutral in the war, so probably they are.


End file.
